The Lady and the Sellsword
by sateinen
Summary: He was a ruthless killer, she was a gentle lady of a broken house. When their paths collide, will they fight their attraction to one another, or fall down a path of scandal? Bronn x OC, slowburn, slightly AU.
1. The Lannister Camp

_Hello all and welcome to my story! A few quick notes: I have taken a few liberties with some character ages, and will likely take a few liberties with the plot. This will mostly follow the TV show, though a few book elements will be added, and the ending/some plot points will probably be very different. All chapters will be around 2000-2500 words. I hope you enjoy! Also, please note that I tend to go back and edit my chapters – no major plot points will be changed, but I do fix grammar and small details! _

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Lady Alia Bracken sat quietly in her tent as a maid gently brushed through her golden hair. She wasn't a maid from Stone Hedge – she was a borrowed maid named Neina who had the tan skin and dark hair of Dorne – a nice enough girl, but hardly in the confidence of the lady. Most of Stone Hedge had died or fled when Gregor Clegane and his men came through. Alia refused to call him Ser Gregor, at least in her own mind, for his cruelty towards her people had shown him to be no true knight. He had burned the fields, from the castle to the Red Fork, and killed her father, Lord Jonos Bracken, in a horrific manner. He had destroyed everything she had ever once held dear, all in a few moments. Her mother had long been dead, for which Alia was thankful, as she would not have wanted her to witness the brutal nature of her father's demise. Alia was not sure if her older sister, Bess, was dead or if she had managed to escape, but she had not seen her since being imprisoned, and she was not given much information from the soldiers. As far as she knew, she was the last Bracken alive.

It had been a relief when Gregor Clegane had gone on to Harrenhal, though she was left in the care of some Lannister soldiers, unsure of what to do with her, until Lord Tywin Lannister had come marching through with his army. Alia never thought she'd be so grateful to see Lord Tywin, but she had begun to feel uneasy with the looks some that the Lannister soldiers had given her. Deep, searching, lustful looks of men who had been gone too long from their wives or lovers. As a girl of eight and ten, she was not naïve to what men wanted. She ought to have been married by now, but her lord father had been denying many a suitor for her and her sister in the past years. He thought they both deserved marriages into one of the Great houses, though Alia suspected her sister would have been married off within the year as she was nearly twenty.

Lord Tywin, though unkind and harsh, had made sure Alia was treated with respect and comfort as they left Stone Hedge and marched up to the Trident to await Robb Stark's army. She was placed in a tent near his own, so that he might keep an eye on her, and he had given her a horse to ride. Lord Tywin's army had destroyed the Stark army, but it had been a ruse, much to Alia's delight. Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, was now held by the Stark army, which had split in two to distract Lord Tywin. The young wolf king had proven to be clever, more so than Tywin had suspected. Alia had been confined to her tent with guards during the battle and the two days since, only gaining knowledge from the voices she could hear outside her tent. It had been maddening. She yearned for the open air. She yearned for Stone Hedge.

"Lady Alia, Lord Tywin has requested your presence." One of the guards poked his head in through the entrance, clearing his throat. He was a young soldier – his ruffled brown hair and green eyes showing a face no more than twenty – and had been kind to Alia. She nodded at him so he knew she had understood, before turning to Neina who was still brushing out her hair.

"Please get me one of my nicer dresses, perhaps the red one." Neina fluttered around the tent, fetching the dress and helping Alia into it. The dress was made of a silky material, cut to show her figure to its best, but with a modest neckline so as not to appear too scandalous. It would not do to dress impurely walking through a camp full of soldiers, though she did think the men ought to just learn how to keep their hands to themselves. Alia hoped that the red would appease Lord Tywin – perhaps he would understand that she did not intend to put up a fight. There was no time to make her hair elaborate, so Neina added two braids on either side and pinned them back, leaving the rest of her hair loose. She stepped outside to meet the young guard, who escorted her to Lord Tywin's tent. As it was only a few paces away from her own tent, the escort seemed foolish, but still, propriety was important, even during war. There were many voices coming from the inside, which stopped suddenly as the guard announced Alia's arrival.

She entered and was surprised to see many of the Lannister generals surrounding the table. Lord Tywin Lannister sat at the center, an untouched glass of wine in front of him. His brother, Lord Kevan, sat across from him, and the dwarf, Lord Tyrion Lannister, sat at the edge of the table. His cup of wine, unlike his father's, was nearly empty.

"Get out, all of you." Tywin gestured with his hands, his voice clearly agitated, and most of the table hurried out of the room, nodding to Alia respectfully. Her heart stopped at the thought of being alone with Tywin Lannister.

"Not you." He growled as Tyrion stood to leave, and she felt momentarily relieved. Tyrion looked confused and slightly fearful, but he sat back down near his father, his hands reaching for the wine pitcher. It was then that Alia noticed the man behind Tyrion. He stood nearly in the shadows, but his eyes carefully darted between the two lords. He had dark hair and dark scruff on his face, looking a bit unkempt, but his eyes were light blue and striking. There was a certain mischief in his face, but there was also a hardness, something that spoke of pain. Alia was surprised to find him handsome, as his rugged looks created a dangerous air about him. He wasn't wearing Lannister armor; he was dressed in a leather breastplate with a grey tunic and tan breeches. A sword was attached to his hip, but she swore she could see a dagger just peeking out from his back as well. She wondered who he was – he didn't seem to be a Lannister soldier, so perhaps he was one of Lord Tywin's bannermen. He caught Alia studying him, and her face flushed as he smirked whilst looking over her slowly. She glanced away, her eyes looking around the room, though she could still feel his eyes on her.

"Lady Alia." She faced Lord Tywin as he called to her, bowing her head slightly. Tywin was still an imposing figure despite his age and he moved with the strength and grace of a man twenty years younger. Dressed handsomely in Lannister red and gold, he looked every bit like the Lord of Casterly Rock. Tywin looked her over once, his eyes cold and calculating, before turning to Tyrion.

"In addition to serving in my stead as Hand, you will escort Lady Alia to King's Landing." Tywin turned back to Alia, and she tried not to let the shock show on her face as he spoke to her.

"Lady Alia, you will go to King's Landing and remain in court. A suitable husband will be found for you with the help of Lord Tyrion, and if you and your lord husband swear fealty to King Joffrey, Stone Hedge will be returned to you. If you refuse these terms…" He didn't have to spell it out, as to refuse would be death. She clasped her hands together and hoped the men couldn't see them trembling.

"My lord, I thank you for your mercy and your support in making me a suitable match. I do so pledge my loyalty to the true and rightful ruler of the seven kingdoms, King Joffrey." She replied, hoping that her voice sounded sincere and unwavering, hoping that she had spoken the correct words. Tywin stared at her for a moment. She couldn't tell if he was unimpressed or simply bored.

"Good. You shall leave with Lord Tyrion and his party on the morrow." With that, she was dismissed back to her tent. Neina hovered around Alia when she returned, unpinning her hair and helping her dress for bed.

"Neina, please pack up my things. I don't want to keep Lord Tyrion waiting in the morning." Alia told the maid, who bowed before hustling about the room. She focused on the sounds of the Neina's footsteps, trying not to think about what was to come in the morning.

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The horse the lion lord had lent Bronn for the journey to King's Landing was a fine beast, a steel grey warhorse, and surprisingly well-mannered for a stallion. He stood still as Bronn fixed a few more bags onto his saddle, muttering about the excess of supplies they were taking for the journey. Mainly it was wine for the imp. The little lord was scurrying around, trying to get the hill tribes in line before they began their journey.

"Shagga, please remember that where we are going, you can't just kill without reason." His exasperated voice carried through the crowd. Bronn snorted, tightening the saddle on his horse and patting his grey neck. He knew Tyrion was fighting a losing battle, and was thankful only a few of the hill tribesmen were joining them on the road. He didn't want to have to dirty his dagger with their blood. The sound of women's voices, a rare sound for a camp, made him turn around.

Gods, he had seen many beautiful women in his five and thirty years – some noble, some common, some whores – but never any as beautiful as Alia. Lady Alia, as she should have been properly called, but he had never thought much of being polite. It didn't surprise Bronn that the lion lord had kept her hidden away; half the camp probably wanted to fuck her. He knew he did. Just last night, he was imagining all the things he would do to her, were he so fortunate.

She had two maids with her, but Bronn barely spared them a glance, instead choosing to study the girl. Her long, golden hair waved down her back and against her pretty face. He noted the soft blue dress she had on, which emphasized her lithe frame and matched her lovely eyes. Bronn could just see the tops of her breasts, small but round. He wondered what it would be like to touch her, though he knew a noble girl like that would not debase herself with a sellsword like him, especially one so much older. Still, he would take pleasure in looking at her and imagining, perhaps teasing her to enjoy her reactions.

Alia studied the party that was to head to King's Landing, eyeing the fierce-looking hill tribes, Lord Tyrion, and the man who seemed to be Lord Tyrion's shadow. For once, she was less afraid of a Lannister than anyone else nearby. Tyrion stopped in front of her, a gentle smile appearing on his face. She did not find him monstrous, as so many proclaimed him to be. Yes, he was a dwarf, but he had a kind face and shrewd eyes.

"Lady Alia, I apologize that we do not have a wheelhouse for you to travel in. The journey is long, about a week, but we will stop at inns along the way when we can." She smiled softly at him.

"It is no trouble my lord, I quite enjoy riding. I thank you for escorting me to the capital." Alia was presented with a plain bay mare; she wished she could have her fiery red stallion back, as it reminded her of her family's sigil, but the horse had been taken by Gregor Clegane to Harrenhal. Still, she stroked the mare's face, thankful to be leaving, but also wishing she had something other than her dresses to wear. Her legs would be sore before long. Suddenly, Tyrion's shadow man was behind her, startling her with his presence.

"I'll help you get up, m'lady." He proclaimed, moving to the side to assist her in getting on her horse. She noticed that he didn't ask if she needed help and assumed she would allow him to aid her. Alia felt nervous as he place his hands on her waist – she had not been in the presence of many men, certainly not men she found attractive. Her stomach felt as though it had dropped to her knees, but it wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling.

Bronn tried not to let his hands linger for too long as he helped her climb into the saddle. He'd walked over to her without thinking, just moving on sheer intuition, which was the same way he went through most of his life. It had led him to follow the imp, and he hoped that would soon pay off. Her face was slightly flushed as his hands left her waist, and Bronn grinned to himself, wondering if the redness on her cheeks was from the exertion of getting on the horse or from something else.

"Thank you, Ser…?" Her voice drifted down to him as she straightened her dress and gathered the reins. He gazed up at her, though he was tall enough to still come up to her waist, and admired her curves from his new view. He was flattered that she thought him to be a knight. Once she knew what he really was, he doubted she would come near him again.

"Not a Ser or a lord, m'lady, just Bronn if it's the same to you." Alia nodded, thinking that his courtesies seemed a bit forced, as if he wasn't used to speaking to noble women. His voice was rough and accented, but she found something about it appealing. Not that it mattered – she would likely be married off to a lord or knight, of which he claimed to be neither.

"Thank you, Bronn." She clarified, glancing down at him once more before urging her bay mare forward. Bronn watched her go as several dirty thoughts crossed through his mind and a deep ache filled his groin.

"Seven hells." He muttered, wondering why he found this woman so enchanting. At least it would be an interesting journey.

**Thank you for reading, and please review, I love reading them!**


	2. Outside of Brindlewood

_A/n: Thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows already, it really makes my day! Normally I wouldn't release a new chapter this quickly but I was so elated by the response so far! This is still more of a background chapter, next chapter will be more interesting/have more action. Also, if you are interested in a Theon x OC/slight Robb x Margaery fic, please check out my other newly started story, "A Rose Amongst the Salt"._

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The journey from the Trident to King's Landing wasn't far, about a week's ride in total. Alia had only ever been away from Stone Hedge thrice – once to attend a tourney at Riverrun, once to attend a Frey wedding at the Twins, and most recently when Lord Tywin had held her hostage. She had quickly become attached to the little bay mare she'd been given and named her Maiden because of the mare's delicate nature. She found the ride to be rather pleasant despite her legs aching after the first two days. There was something glorious about being on the open road, even if she was slowly being led away from her childhood home.

The hill tribesmen had left her alone for the most part – only a few asked her any questions at all before turning back to their own companions. Lord Tyrion confided to her that the men of the mountain preferred their women to be a bit more wild and fierce, that they found her dresses and combed hair strange. Alia could not say she was disappointed. The men often argued amongst themselves and she still couldn't differentiate between the Stone Crows and the Moon Brothers, so she was glad of their indifference lest she offend one of them with her ignorance.

Lord Tyrion was amiable and she enjoyed conversing with him, though he did drink quite a lot of wine when they made camp and could ask rather bold questions after a few cups. She was getting used to this though – used to being in a more unguarded society, which she found refreshing. Alia thought that she might have been friends with Tyrion, as he had instructed her to call him, if he hadn't been a Lannister. Even so, she wasn't completely against the idea of his friendship, should he prove to be trustworthy. He seemed completely different than his father, but she was still wary of him. The rest of the Lannister men generally avoided her, and she suspected Tyrion had warned them away, for which she was grateful.

Bronn was quieter than Tyrion. When they made a fire at night, he would sit near her, probably closer than was proper, but it was a difficult task to pull more than a few sentences at a time from him. She had learned that he was a sellsword, which explained his gruff mannerisms. She didn't approve of his lifestyle – how could she ever trust a man who could always be bought? Still, she found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn't completely understand. She found him attractive, that much she knew, and kept her thoughts on that matter to herself. It wasn't as if anything could happen between the two of them – he wasn't highborn enough to ask for her hand, and somehow she sensed that Bronn wasn't the kind of man to ask for what he wanted anyways. Besides, she wasn't even sure if he wanted her or just liked to make her uncomfortable with his lewd glances.

On the fourth night of their travels, they made camp just outside of Brindlewood in a small, wooded clearing. Alia dismounted from her horse on her own and patted Maiden's smooth neck before turning her over to one of the Lannister squires. A tent had already been erected for her at the center of the camp – inside, Neina and another maid named Miranna, were waiting. Alia had come to like both of her maids, though she still didn't trust either of them completely – they were Lannister maids, after all. Neina was quiet, preferring to do her tasks quickly and quietly, while Miranna loved to chat and gossip with Alia. Neina was from Dorne, as Alia had first guessed, while Miranna had been from a small village in the Westerlands. Inside the tent, Miranna gently unlaced Alia's dress as Neina fixed her hair. It seemed silly to dress for dinner on the road, but the maids bustled around her until she was dressed in a light green dress and her hair was pinned up in a southern style.

Alia was surprised to see Bronn waiting outside her tent, leaning against a nearby tree and examining one of the silver rings on his hand. He was freshly washed and dressed in clean clothes, though his dark beard was still messy. She unconsciously straightened her hair, feeling nervous and warm despite the comfortable weather. His eyes watched as she fussed with her hair and a small smirk appeared on his face, looking as if he knew all of her secrets. He always looked at her this way, as if he knew every thought she had, and it made her nervous.

"M'lady. I thought I would escort you to dinner." Bronn announced, the words somehow sounding sarcastic. Perhaps it was the way his eyes roamed over her body and face carelessly, but he hardly seemed the type to care about the propriety of calling her a lady, so it sounded odd to her every time he addressed her. The light giggles she heard from inside her tent didn't help her nervousness – Miranna and Neina had already made several comments about Bronn to Alia, most of which had to do with his good looks and suggestive disposition.

"Thank you Bronn, I would be glad of the escort." Alia hesitated, still not sure of his intentions. For the most part, he had stayed away from her, only sitting near her at night, though she still saw him watching her at other times. During the day, he usually rode at the very back of the party and Miranna or Tyrion entertained Alia. Bronn looked almost disappointed with her words, as if he was hoping she would deny him. She took the arm he offered, trying not to notice the feel of his muscles from beneath his tunic.

Bronn had tried to stay away from her, the hardest he had ever tried to stay away from a woman, which wasn't saying much. The girl intrigued him. Aside from her obvious beauty, he found her more confusing than any woman he'd ever met. She spoke sweet words and was all grace and propriety, but there was a fire in her eyes that went against her outward appearance.

He saw it whenever the imp had mentioned Gregor Clegane – her face constricted, but she did not look sad or frightened. He saw it the day that they had raced across an open field just for the fun of it and she had leaned forward into her horse's neck, urging the mare to go faster despite the wind whipping against her hair. Mostly, he saw it whenever she caught him looking at her. Other ladies of her status would be offended or afraid of his attentions. It clearly flustered her, for she usually flushed and would try to surreptitiously hide her face, but he noticed her looking back at him almost as often as he looked at her. Bronn needed to better understand her and the shield she had up. He wanted her to stop saying such pretty words and speak her mind instead.

Of course, that wasn't to say that he didn't mind looking at her. He had relieved himself every night since they'd departed the Trident, stroking his cock and imagining being above her, inside of her, as she whimpered his name and arched against his body. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman – there hadn't been any brothels in the Vale – and an even longer time since he'd had a maiden, as he suspected she was. The urge to seduce her and take her was still strong in his mind, and before he wouldn't have given it a second thought. He probably would've tried to bed her by now, if it hadn't been for the fire behind her eyes. He needed to know what drove that fire, and to do that, she needed to trust him.

"How did you end up here, on a journey to King's Landing with Lord Tyrion?" Alia inquired as they walked through the camp. Bronn noticed how her eyes flittered across the Lannister soldiers and the hill tribesmen warily.

"It's a bloody long story, but let's just say the little lord still owes me for saving his life, and you know what the Lannisters always say." Bronn grunted, sneakily grabbing at his dagger when he saw one of the soldiers watching Alia for too long. The poor lad nearly jumped out of his skin, scurrying away as if he was on fire, and Bronn had to fight the urge to laugh. Luckily, Alia was none the wiser, as her eyes were now fixated on a skirmish that had broken out between a Stone Crow and Moon Brother. Bronn steered them wide, not in the mood to deal with the hill tribes.

In the past, Bronn would've ditched Tyrion after he'd been paid by Tywin, but Tyrion had promised him even more riches if Bronn accompanied him to King's Landing. Plus, he hadn't been able to resist when he'd found out Alia would also be going to King's Landing, even if it was for her inevitable marriage to some cunt with a title. He led Alia to Tyrion's tent, which was unusual as they normally ate outside.

"The little lord thought it might be better to have a _quiet _dinner for once." He explained, seeing the apprehension on her face. Alia understood his meaning immediately; Tyrion wished to have a more private conversation, and didn't want to be overhead by his father's soldiers.

"Ah, Lady Alia, you look as beautiful as ever. I do hope that Bronn didn't distress you at all with any objectionable conversation." Tyrion remarked as the pair entered the tent, shooting the sellsword a look. Bronn cleared his throat in mock offense. Alia merely smiled as she sat down.

"Thank you my lord. No, I was not distressed in the slightest." At this, Bronn raised his eyebrows at Tyrion before winking at Alia, who flushed slightly and turned to look at the inside of the tent – anywhere but at the man who both unnerved her and captivated her.

"See, the lass grows fonder of my wits and charm each day." Tyrion took a deep sip of his wine and rubbed his hand over his temple, as if soothing a deep headache.

"I imagine the _lady_ is simply being polite – no doubt she is used to better company than a Lannister and a sellsword. Once we are in King's Landing and she is surrounded by nobler gentlemen than ourselves, I'm certain she will be properly affronted by your unseemly behavior. " They were interrupted by the food – a warm beef and vegetable stew served with large chunks of bread – and the only noise for a while was the thud of the wine pitcher or the clink of a spoon. Tyrion leaned forward after a stretch of silence, looking at Alia seriously.

"My lady, I must apologize for the circumstances that have surrounded your…_situation_. I pray you know that I will do everything in my power to delay your marriage, and if it cannot be delayed, I swear to find you a respectable, kind man." The sincerity behind his words and in his eyes was forceful and Alia desperately wanted to believe that he meant it.

"I-I thank you, Lord Tyrion." Alia faltered, reverting towards using his title and not trusting herself to speak more. She had the strange urge to throw a tantrum, like a young child, and yell at him that she would not be married off, that his family was responsible for all of her miseries, but she knew doing so would only lead to trouble. Besides, it wasn't Tyrion's fault, and she'd always known that she probably wouldn't marry for love, but for fortune and titles. Tyrion and Bronn spent the rest of the dinner conversing about the remainder of the journey, while Alia sat mostly in silence.

"Thank you for joining me, Lady Alia. Bronn, please escort the lady back to her tent, and do try to behave yourself." Tyrion grasped one of her hands in his as she stood to leave, his voice still sounding apologetic. Bronn led her back towards her tent, whistling cheerfully.

"What kind of cunt do you think they'll marry you off to, then? Hope for your sake it isn't a Lannister." With a little wine in his belly, Bronn dropped any courtesies he might've used around her before, even if they were slightly sarcastic. He enjoyed watching her reaction to his coarse language – she stiffened a bit and the slight pink tinge that he loved appeared in her cheeks.

"I'm sure Lord Tyrion will keep his promise and find me a respectable-" He cut her off and turned to her, suddenly heated. They were just outside her tent now. The sounds of the soldiers raucously laughing around a fire could be heard in the distance.

"Yes, a Lannister always pays his debts and all that noble shit. Come on, girl. Your home was burned to the ground, your father killed, and now you're about to be sold like a horse at auction to the highest bidder. Surely you have more to say about that than your pretty words! For fucks sake, have you ever even sworn? I've seen the anger inside of you, I know it's in you." He goaded, stepping closer to her, much closer than he should be. He could kiss her, if he wanted to. Just lean down and kiss that pretty little mouth that he couldn't help but search out. Her blue eyes lit up with the fire he relished, and her lips parted to speak.

They were startled apart by a Lannister soldier wobbling past them, his armor clanging heavily. Bronn growled and wondered what the consequences would be if he were to kill the man where he stood. He glanced back down at Alia and was disappointed to see the light gone from her eyes, replaced with trepidation and disgust as she watched the soldier stagger by. She turned back to Bronn and stepped away from him slightly.

"Thank you for escorting me, Bronn." She retorted, her lips set in a thin line. He scowled slightly at her formal tone. He knew he had nearly gotten there.

"You're welcome, my lady. Sleep well." He quipped, the mocking edge clearly apparent in his voice. Her eyes were illuminated once more, if only for a brief moment, so he didn't consider the night a total loss. He would break through, no matter how long it took. Alia stalked away from him into her tent, looking no more frightening than a kitten, and he watched her go with a slight grin on his face. He liked the challenge.

Miranna and Neina were chatting idly and straightening up when she came stomping in, her heart still racing. She vaguely listened to Miranna's gossip about Tyrion having brought a whore with him, still thinking over what Bronn had said to her. He was right, she was angry. She was more than angry, but what choice did she have but to go along with what Tywin Lannister wanted?

She kept thinking back to how close she and Bronn had stood. She had never been so close to a man before, except when her father had hugged her, but that was not the same. Just thinking about him made her heart race again, and there was a strange, gnawing feeling deep inside of her. She had wanted to yell at him, to say the worst words she knew, and beat at his chest with her fists. She might've too, if a Lannister hadn't come along to remind her that they weren't alone, that there was always someone to hear her words, someone who could report them back to the king or Lord Tywin. She needed to be more careful, and she needed to put some distance between herself and Bronn.

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**Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review; I love reading your comments/thoughts/critiques as it makes me a better writer!**


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